Lone Survivors
by BananaaPumpkin
Summary: Martha and her friends, Joe, Scarlett, Jessica, Harry, and Will, are some of the only few survivors that may be left in the country. The walking dead are roaming the streets, and the group of five are struggling with supplies and support. How much longer can they go on? Is there any way out? Will they live?
1. The War Has Begun

Never in my life have I seen the world like this. Never thought I would. I never thought that I would have even survived – to be one of the only survivors left. There may be more out there, the real people. People who haven't yet turned. And that's not a massive number. From what I know, three-quarters of the county's population has already either died, or been turned into one of them.

I've seen them, their bodies splattered with human blood, their skin ripped and pale, their eyes white and emotionless. Like the person that once lived in that same body, was long gone, their body and mind now controlled by that monstrous creature inside.

I can't even begin to explain how it feels to see people you know who have become like them. Or what it feels like when all they want to do is kill you. That's their first instinct. No other thoughts. Just kill.

I was at school the day this happened. The day people started to die. Police alarms were blaring, ambulances and military vehicles armed with soldiers were arriving outside. Police officers were screaming and yelling at us to evacuate the building. By the time the students were outside, the creatures has already started to enter the school gates, and by the time I had figured out what was going on – people were already dead. Friends, teachers, people I knew were getting eaten alive in front of our eyes.

People started to run, but I saw a girl from my year trying to run from a blood-thirsty zombie. She looked at me, her arms outstretched, her cries begging me for help. She was screaming at me, pulling herself along the pavement, by her arms. I ran over to her and grabbed her hands, but as I did, the zombie tore her body apart. It bit into her like a hungry animal, groping at her intestines and inner flesh. I couldn't find the will to run; I just stood there, watching the monster with one last pull, rip out her heart.

I saw the blood splatter on the pavement. I saw the heart of the girl being torn and eaten by the creature. I saw the girl, lying on the pavement, dead.

When I think about it now, I wonder if there was any chance that I could have saved her. People tell me that I couldn't have. They tell me that many innocent people died that day, that it was just unfortunate that one of the victims was her, and that I tried to help. That it wasn't my fault.

After watching the girl die, I ran home to my parents. Hoping that it wasn't too late. I remember running up to the front door and opening it to an empty house. I called for them, but they didn't answer. As I walked along the hallway, I stepped in a puddle. I looked down and realised that it was a puddle of blood.

I saw that the windows were shattered, shards of glass on the floor. I walked into the kitchen; there was a large knife on the table. I took it, for self defence. I heard a noise from upstairs, and ran upstairs to my parents' bedroom. I opened the door to find two monsters inside.

Mum and Dad.

Killing someone that you knew was one thing. Killing your parents is unbearable. They turned to look at me, with their wide, white eyes. Their skin was pale, their clothes stained with blood. Their mouths were ajar, smeared with blood. They began to lumber towards me, to kill me.

I shook my head, knowing what I had to do. I took out the knife, watching my parents as they walked across the room to me, moaning. My parents, these were my parents, and I had to kill them. I had to rid them of this pain. Kill the monster inside of them. My hand was shaking, my heart was beating fast. As they got closer to me, I raised my knife at both of them, and I whispered;

"I'm sorry."

I remember this so clearly, and still now, it pains me to even forget it. It has, and will forever be the most unforgivable thing I ever did. I killed my own parents. For their own good. To kill what was inside of them. They were already dead. I think about it every day. How if I had just run to them from the start, if I had left that girl, then there could have been a chance that I may have been able to save them somehow.

Some people think that I'm too hard on myself. They tell me that I wasn't responsible for everyone's deaths that day. To me, it feels like it. Like I let them die. I sometimes even consider killing myself just to take away the pain and the suffering that I experience every day.

From that day on, I've been surviving. Out here. In the city. It's been weeks since that day. My home is an old, deserted video game store in the street. I'm not alone here, although it sometimes feels like it. There are five of us struggling out here. Only two of my friends from school survived. The others.. I don't want to even think about it. There's enough going through my head without having to worry about anything else.

The two friends are Jessica and Scarlett. I met them whilst running from my house the day it all happened. We decided to stick together, as we couldn't find anyone else beside the zombies out in the streets. The other three are survivors that we managed to help during these first few weeks. Their names are Harry, Will and Joe.

Joe managed to find us in the store in the first week. He was short of provisions, and we had enough food for all three of us to keep us going. The video store is situated in the middle of the high street, which means it is near the grocery store and the pharmacy if either one of the group falls ill or gets injured.

Harry and Will were in trouble outside in the street, and had only a small knife and a shard of glass as weapons. Our group of three had previously located a weapons store not far down the road, and looted enough of the weapons and ammo for at least ten people. We managed to save both the boys and decided to trust them, letting them stay with us.

There were two other boys, Logan and Dylan. We met them later after Harry and Will had joined the group. We let them both into the group, unaware that Logan was hiding a zombie bite. The next day, he turned, and killed Dylan. We had no other choice but to shoot them both in order to save ourselves.

I'm Martha by the way. I'm sixteen, as are Scarlett and Jessica. Joe is seventeen, as is Harry, and Will is eighteen, the oldest.

At this current point in time, there are only five of us. It's a big enough group to defend and protect ourselves. Once the grocery store runs out of edible food, we'll have to move on to another city, in hope that there may be other survivors that have supplies or that the food hasn't gone bad.

Being in the street in an old, run-down game store has its advantages and disadvantages from time to time. We have an easy access to food, weapons and medicine, with a good view to see any remaining survivors or hungry dead creatures.

We're strongly supported by our surroundings but the placement in the city is too dangerous. Zombies could easily smash the glass store front window, if we were seen. It hasn't happened yet, but if we stay here for too long, we might just get ourselves killed. Every month we plan to move to a different part of the city, scavenging out any supplies or people we can.

At the moment, we're still in our home-town, which means you see a lot of people that you once knew. People from the town, the village, your family, as the walking dead.

Joe saw his granddad the other day outside the shop as he went to go and get provisions from the store. He had to shoot him in the head, and he hasn't been the same since. Things like this change you.

Especially if you're in the middle of a war with the walking dead.


	2. It's Going to be Alright

Being one of the few survivors left, it makes you feel more alone than ever. Even if you have others around you. When you're stuck in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, you're on your own. Without your parents, you have to think and defend yourself. You need to survive. Getting killed is not an option here.

Between the five of us, we have the necessary skills to survive out here. For example, Joe can camouflage in with his surroundings when he's outside, making him barely noticeable, which is key for thieving. Scarlett is especially good with sneaking around unheard when around enemies. Harry can cook us food when we loot it from the store. Will is pretty handy with electronics, which is good for getting signals and TV. Jessica is a first aider, and can see to us if any of us are injured. And me, I would like to think I can shoot a gun pretty well, and I'm pretty nifty with a bow and arrow.

Having these skills throughout the group gives us a good chance of survival. But there's no knowing to what might happen out there. It's all down to chance. If you get stuck out there with those monsters, there's no escaping them. Once they bite you, that's it. You're gone. No knowing as to who survives, if any.

* * *

I watch Will as he connects two pieces of wire together in a radio. There is a spark as they connect, and the radio comes to life, playing a crackled tune. He smiles to himself, and places the radio on the counter next to him. I listened to the fading tune and slowly walked up to the big store window, looking at the outside world. The sky was stormy-grey, and zombies roamed the streets outside, unaware of our existence. I watched a one-armed zombie stagger by the window and down the street, in search of fresh human flesh.

Joe had gone out to the food store with Scarlett next door to find some new supplies for the week. We were running low, and the hunger was starting to eat away at us. I knew we had to move from here soon to another neighbouring town to find new sources of food and weapons, and to even hopefully track down some other lucky survivors. I say 'lucky' like it's a good thing. In my opinion, I'd rather be dead, taken a bullet to the head. I wouldn't want to become one of them, and staying cooped up in here with your life at risk everyday isn't any better.

Scarlett runs into the room, hair and clothes dripping wet from the sudden downpour outside. Behind her comes Joe, his curly brown hair sticking to his forehead. He smiles at me when he arrives.

Will looks up from his newly-repaired radio at the sound of their arrival. "How did it go? Did you find anything?" He asked, walking from the counter and standing at my side. He eyed the brown sack that Joe was holding.

Joe hands him the sack. "Only enough to last us a couple of days." He sighed, and leant against the wall. "I'm sorry; it's the only things that were left." He looked at me with disappointed eyes, and I gave him a sympathetic smile.

"We'll have to leave here tomorrow." I said, turning back to the window, my arms folded. "There's no other option than to starve to death." I turned to them. "We knew we'd have to move out of here eventually, we can't stay here in the same place forever."

Joe nodded. "She's right. We'll pack up our things and leave here first thing tomorrow. If we leave at dark, then we'd all be in great danger. If we leave at dawn, we'd have light on our side, and we'd have plenty of time to find another place to hide out."

Will nodded, and went off to put the sack of remaining goods in the back room where we kept our weapons and supplies. Scarlett went outside and climbed onto the roof where she could keep an eye out for any danger coming our way. It was just me and Joe left in the room. Still looking out the window at the blood-thirsty zombies, I heard him walk heavily up towards my side.

"Thanks for siding with me back there," I said to him. "I didn't want to be the only one that thought we should leave."

Joe shrugged. "It's true. We need to go. We said at the start that we'd have to move sometime. But there's something about this place that makes me feel safe. Even if we are stuck in the middle of a war with.. them."

We eyed a passing zombie as he limped past, half of his face ripped to shreds. His clothes were ripped apart, his zombie flesh ragged and torn. To think that that once was just a normal person, and now they had been turned into a human-eating monster.

"We'll be alright." I said, not convinced with my words.

Joe looked at me and smiled. "I know." He grabbed my hand and squeezed it reassuringly. I looked at him, and for a moment we were silent as we looked at each other, standing there, holding each other's hands, a sign that we were all going to be alright.

How wrong we were.


	3. One Down

Harry pulled me to my feet. I heard the smashing of glass from the front room, and voices groaning for our flesh and blood. As I ran out of the room, I saw one of them climbing through the broken door. Its eyes were white, blood stained it's clothes. I could tell that the person's hair used to be blonde-brown, and he wore a ripped white t-shirt with jeans, and suddenly I realised, as the zombie turned to looked at me..

.. it was Joe.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go to him and tell him that it was alright, but I wanted to run away. I stood there, motionless, as he limped towards me. I felt a firm grip on my wrist, and I was pulled away from Joe. I looked and saw that it was Harry who was pulling me away, and he dragged me through a door, and shut it in front of me.

He turned to me, his hands on my shoulders.

"What were you doing back there? You almost died!" His voice shook.

I gasped for air, tears forming in my eyes. "It- it was.. it was Joe." I rested against the wall and my back slid down it, until I was just a heap on the floor, shaking and crying.

Harry sighed and crouched down beside me. "Look, we have to leave. The zombies will come through here any minute, and I don't want to lose another one of you."

I made no reply.

"Martha, please."

I looked up slowly, his face scared and sympathetic. I felt sorry for him, having to be in charge of the group, it meant that he was responsible for everybody, and being responsible for Joe's death must be terrible. He held out his hands to me, and I took them without a word, and he pulled me back up to my feet. He led me along a corridor and into another room, where Will, Jessica and Scarlett were waiting.

"We've found a way out," Scarlett said. "It's risky, but it's our only chance to get out of here. You need your weapons out at the ready at all times."

We all nodded. Harry looked at me, but I just stared at the ground.

Scarlett pushed open a door and beckoned us to come out after her. Harry went behind me, to defend our group as we silently crept from the back door, along the streets, and into a dark alleyway.

"Our escape is down there," Scarlett pointed to the end of the alleyway. "From there, we need to find a car. Will can start it with the jump leads, and Harry can drive us from here. I'm just hoping there's enough petrol to get us somewhere.." Her voice trailed off. She started to creep down the alley, and stopped a few steps from the doorway.

"What is it?" Jessica asked.

"There are zombies. Everywhere." She said, looking at us solemnly. "There's only one way to get out of here."

"What is it?" Harry asked her.

Scarlett turned to us. "One of us is going to have to make a distraction whilst Will gets the car working. And that person will most likely get killed in the attempt. I'm sorry; it's the only way we can get out."

No-one said anything. We just looked at her in shock. I felt a pain in my stomach, a pain of grief, guilt and loss.

"I'll go." Harry said, stepping forward.

Scarlett shook her head. "No. You are the leader of the group, and right now, we need you. Martha needs you. You are staying put. I'm going."

"What?" Jessica said. "You can't go out there!"

She shrugged. "It's the only thing I can do to get you all out of here alive. And I'm up for it. I've got nothing to lose. All my family are already dead."

Before we could convince her not to do it, she had already run out into the open, shouting. Will ran over to the opposite side of the street, and found a Jeep. He started to get to work on it, whilst Harry, Jessica and I guarded him.

We heard shooting from the other end of the street from Scarlett. None of us said anything, knowing that she probably wouldn't come back. I leaned on the car, thinking about Joe and then my brain switched to the picture of the monster I had seen. I shuddered and Harry came over to me.

"You alright there?" He asked me, one hand on my shoulder.

I looked at my feet. "Yeah.. I'm fine." I knew Harry knew that I was lying; it was obvious that I was far from fine. I didn't want to talk about anything. Harry knew that I wasn't up for talking, and so he went back to his place by Will.

"How you doing there, Will?" Harry asked him.

"Nearly there," Will said. "Got it!" As a spark ignited, the engine started to come to life.

"Everyone get in!" Harry shouted to us.

Jessica stayed outside as we clambered into the Jeep.

"Jess! Get in the car!" Harry shouted to her.

She turned around.

"I'm not leaving without her! She could still be alive! She's the best fighter I know!" She started to look desperately down the end of the street.

"Jessica! You have to get in! Please!" Harry's voice was desperate.

"No!" She shouted back at him. "If she's not coming out, then I'm going in! I'm not going to leave her on her own! I have to help her!" She ran towards the end of the street, ignoring Harry's attempts to call her back. He even got out of the car and ran after her, but when he eventually caught up to her and tried to grab her hand, she shook him off of her and ran on, leaving him behind.

Will and I watched him return to the car, and as he climbed in, he started the car in silence without a word. He glanced at me in the mirror, and as I looked back at him, I saw that he had tears in his eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, but I thought better of it, and closed it.

It seemed to take forever to get where we were going, especially as no-one was talking. The only sounds we could hear was the rattling of the truck and the rain against the window which had just started to pour down. I rested my head against the window, looking out into the mist and rain. I thought of Joe and Scarlett, and thought of how they risked their lives to save us. Jessica went out there because she couldn't face the fact that her friend was out there by herself. Either way, they all put their lives on the line for somebody else.

And one sudden thought occurred to me. There were six of us yesterday. Now, only three remained.


	4. A Familiar Face

Harry pulled me to my feet. I heard the smashing of glass from the front room, and voices groaning for our flesh and blood. As I ran out of the room, I saw one of them climbing through the broken door. Its eyes were white, blood stained it's clothes. I could tell that the person's hair used to be blonde-brown, and he wore a ripped white t-shirt with jeans, and suddenly I realised, as the zombie turned to looked at me..

.. it was Joe.

I didn't know what to do. I wanted to go to him and tell him that it was alright, but I wanted to run away. I stood there, motionless, as he limped towards me. I felt a firm grip on my wrist, and I was pulled away from Joe. I looked and saw that it was Harry who was pulling me away, and he dragged me through a door, and shut it in front of me.

He turned to me, his hands on my shoulders.

"What were you doing back there? You almost died!" His voice shook.

I gasped for air, tears forming in my eyes. "It- it was.. it was Joe." I rested against the wall and my back slid down it, until I was just a heap on the floor, shaking and crying.

Harry sighed and crouched down beside me. "Look, we have to leave. The zombies will come through here any minute, and I don't want to lose another one of you."

I made no reply.

"Martha, please."

I looked up slowly, his face scared and sympathetic. I felt sorry for him, having to be in charge of the group, it meant that he was responsible for everybody, and being responsible for Joe's death must be terrible. He held out his hands to me, and I took them without a word, and he pulled me back up to my feet. He led me along a corridor and into another room, where Will, Jessica and Scarlett were waiting.

"We've found a way out," Scarlett said. "It's risky, but it's our only chance to get out of here. You need your weapons out at the ready at all times."

We all nodded. Harry looked at me, but I just stared at the ground.

Scarlett pushed open a door and beckoned us to come out after her. Harry went behind me, to defend our group as we silently crept from the back door, along the streets, and into a dark alleyway.

"Our escape is down there," Scarlett pointed to the end of the alleyway. "From there, we need to find a car. Will can start it with the jump leads, and Harry can drive us from here. I'm just hoping there's enough petrol to get us somewhere.." Her voice trailed off. She started to creep down the alley, and stopped a few steps from the doorway.

"What is it?" Jessica asked.

"There are zombies. Everywhere." She said, looking at us solemnly. "There's only one way to get out of here."

"What is it?" Harry asked her.

Scarlett turned to us. "One of us is going to have to make a distraction whilst Will gets the car working. And that person will most likely get killed in the attempt. I'm sorry; it's the only way we can get out."

No-one said anything. We just looked at her in shock. I felt a pain in my stomach, a pain of grief, guilt and loss.

"I'll go." Harry said, stepping forward.

Scarlett shook her head. "No. You are the leader of the group, and right now, we need you. Martha needs you. You are staying put. I'm going."

"What?" Jessica said. "You can't go out there!"

She shrugged. "It's the only thing I can do to get you all out of here alive. And I'm up for it. I've got nothing to lose. All my family are already dead."

Before we could convince her not to do it, she had already run out into the open, shouting. Will ran over to the opposite side of the street, and found a Jeep. He started to get to work on it, whilst Harry, Jessica and I guarded him.

We heard shooting from the other end of the street from Scarlett. None of us said anything, knowing that she probably wouldn't come back. I leaned on the car, thinking about Joe and then my brain switched to the picture of the monster I had seen. I shuddered and Harry came over to me.

"You alright there?" He asked me, one hand on my shoulder.

I looked at my feet. "Yeah.. I'm fine." I knew Harry knew that I was lying; it was obvious that I was far from fine. I didn't want to talk about anything. Harry knew that I wasn't up for talking, and so he went back to his place by Will.

"How you doing there, Will?" Harry asked him.

"Nearly there," Will said. "Got it!" As a spark ignited, the engine started to come to life.

"Everyone get in!" Harry shouted to us.

Jessica stayed outside as we clambered into the Jeep.

"Jess! Get in the car!" Harry shouted to her.

She turned around.

"I'm not leaving without her! She could still be alive! She's the best fighter I know!" She started to look desperately down the end of the street.

"Jessica! You have to get in! Please!" Harry's voice was desperate.

"No!" She shouted back at him. "If she's not coming out, then I'm going in! I'm not going to leave her on her own! I have to help her!" She ran towards the end of the street, ignoring Harry's attempts to call her back. He even got out of the car and ran after her, but when he eventually caught up to her and tried to grab her hand, she shook him off of her and ran on, leaving him behind.

Will and I watched him return to the car, and as he climbed in, he started the car in silence without a word. He glanced at me in the mirror, and as I looked back at him, I saw that he had tears in his eyes. I opened my mouth to say something, but I thought better of it, and closed it.

It seemed to take forever to get where we were going, especially as no-one was talking. The only sounds we could hear was the rattling of the truck and the rain against the window which had just started to pour down. I rested my head against the window, looking out into the mist and rain. I thought of Joe and Scarlett, and thought of how they risked their lives to save us. Jessica went out there because she couldn't face the fact that her friend was out there by herself. Either way, they all put their lives on the line for somebody else.

And one sudden thought occurred to me. There were six of us yesterday. Now, only three remained.


	5. An Unexpected Discovery

I woke up to the sound of the truck's engine juddering, and the vehicle came to a halt. I looked outside, we has stopped on a deserted, silent motorway. It was late afternoon – we would have to find somewhere to camp out from the zombies quickly, otherwise the darkness would consume us, and we would be unaware of our surroundings. I groggily sat upright and leaned in between the space between the seats where Will and Harry were sitting.

"We're out of gas," Said Harry, rubbing his head. "We have to get out of here."

"But where will we go to?" I asked. "We're basically stuck in the middle of nowhere, we could walk for hours and get nowhere, and be stuck somewhere in the dark where all our lives will be at stake!"

Will turned to look at Harry. "She's right. We could walk anywhere and not find anything, and then get eaten alive by those monsters. We need to find a city or a town or even just a small village that's not been infested, somewhere with food."

I had a sudden idea. "Will, is there any chance that you have a GPS on one of those gadgets of yours?" I asked him.

Will looked at me and smiled. "Yes! That's a brilliant idea, Martha! I'll just look up the nearest town to us, find out how far away it is, and then we can go there! I have one on my mobile, I just hope there's signal.."

Will took his phone out of his pocket and started to get to work on finding us the nearest town.

"Only one bar of signal," Will said, looking at us worriedly. "I'm not sure how long it will last, plus it would take a long time to find the information we need."

Harry sighed. I rested my hand on his shoulder to try to reassure him, but it seemed to have no effect.

"The only chance we have then is to just take our chances and try and get as far as we can," I said, looking outside through the windshield. "But we have to go now, before it gets dark."

"There's no point! We won't find anything! Either way we'll be dead by tomorrow morning!" Shouted Harry.

"What if there is something out there?" I said, shouting back at him. "A house? Shelter? Somewhere to camp for one night? A way of transport? Harry, we need to get moving!"

He turned to look at me, his face angry and distressed. "Martha! Listen to me! There is nothing out there, you hear me? Nothing! We may as well just die like the others!"

I looked at him, my eyes wide open. Will turned to look at him in shock.

"I can't believe you just said that, Harry.." Said Will.

"Well, we might as well! We're stuck here! Those zombies will just come and kill us like they killed Scarlett and Jessica and like they killed Joe and ripped him apart!"

I gave him one last glare before getting out and leaving the truck. I stormed off into the nearby woods, ignoring everything that Harry was saying.

"How could he say that?!" I said to myself, my hands scrunched up in tight fists by my sides. I kicked a stick out of my way, kicking up leaves.

I could still hear Harry shouting at me, telling me to come back. The further away I walked, the quieter his shouts got, and I wanted to get away from him as fast as I could.

"How dare he! Talking about Scarlett and Jessica like that! And the way he spoke about Joe! I could kill him!"

He had no right to say anything like that at all. That wasn't like Harry. Perhaps the stress and responsibility had got to him, though he had been fine until now. Still, he was way out of line. I had no intent to forgive him right now. I needed some time on my own.

I came to a stop and shouted at the top of my lungs, screaming away all of the pain, hurt and anger that I felt. My voice faded, and I felt lost for breath. I stood there in the forest, breathing heavily, regaining my breath. I felt somewhat a little better for doing it.

I continued to walk on, away from the truck. I knew that I probably shouldn't have gone alone into the woods, but I wasn't going to stay there listening to Harry. I had no idea of where I was going, just anywhere away from him. Somewhere to think. Somewhere where there was a house, a car, something just to get us out of here. A way of transport. Something to get us out of h-

My thoughts stopped suddenly as I walked straight-on into a very hard object. A tree trunk? A wall? I cursed under my breath as I rubbed my nose and forehead, throbbing slightly. I walked back a few paces to look at what I had walked into.

I couldn't believe it.

It was a train.

A train! How relieved I had felt to have found the one thing I thought we would never find. I screamed with joy at the very sight of it, for this was our very ticket out of here. I started to run back into the woods in the direction that I had come from, jumping over rocks and fallen branches, running back to Harry and Will in the car. I felt a grin spread across my face. Harry could drive the train, Will could get the train to work, and I could help Harry with the navigating! I felt so elated, hope rushing through me.

I started to see the edge of the forest and the motorway. I shouted to them.

"Will! Harry! You'll never believe it!"

I crashed through the edge of the forest and onto the motorway, shouting. "I've found a train!"

But Harry and Will did not answer.

For the Jeep and their bodies had been crushed and torn by those monsters.


	6. Truck Wreckage

I couldn't move. The smile was wiped straight from my face. Cold rushed through me, and my body turned numb. A tear escaped from my eyes and rolled onto my cheek. How did this happen? I was only gone for a matter of minutes. I slowly walked over to the wreck, my breathing heavy and fast. I looked at the wreckage, the windows smashed, the roof was bashed in, the red glass from the headlights was scattered everywhere, as was the glass from the window. I took another step, and my food splashed in a puddle. I looked down to see that it was a pool of blood.

I swallowed, my mouth was dry and I could feel a lump in my throat. All I could hear was the sound of my breathing. I looked at the car and saw a hand sticking out of a broken window. I rushed to it, crouching down and I grasped the hand. It was cold.

I found the door handle of the truck and when I tried to yank it open, it would not budge. I looked around desperately for a tool, anything, something to help me open the door. I looked to my right, desperately trying to find something, and I saw that there was a large shard of metal that had been ripped from the roof. I ran over to it, and took it, coming back to crouch beside the door. I lodged the shard into the door, tugging on the door and pressing the shard to open it.

The door swung open, knocking me to my feet. A body fell out of the car, it was lifeless and limp. It landed by my feet, unmoving. I quietly crept over to it, seeing if it was Harry or Will. It didn't appear to be breathing.

Just as I was about to turn the body over to see its face, the body came to life unexpectedly, knocking me over onto my back and into the glass. It wasn't Will or Harry.

It was a zombie.

It stood up slowly, making a slow groaning noise. I was to scared to move, lying in the broken glass. I stopped breathing altogether when it turned to look at me. The zombie started to move its feet sluggishly towards me, his arms outstretched, wanting my flesh and my blood. I started to move back, sliding along the floor, through the glass. It pierced and cut my hands, and I winced in pain as the zombie got closer and closer.

Its eyes were white, blinded by hate and death. That was a normal person once. A normal person just going to work, with no worries. A person with a family, daughters sons, a mother and a father, and now, they had become one of them.

It leaned in towards me, about to tear me apart. I groped around for something, anything, and I suddenly remembered that I was still holding the shard of metal from trying to open the door. The monster was opening his mouth to rip me apart as I stabbed him in the head with the metal. It howled in pain as it fell to the floor, dead.

I sat there for a moment, breathing fast. My hands were bleeding and I had cuts all over my hands and legs. I looked at the car and remembered Will and Harry.

I shouted to them. "Will? Harry? Are you in there? It's me, Martha!"

I ran to the opened door and rummaged around in the scraps of glass and metal, trying to find them. I found countless blood-stained pieces of metal and glass, but I could not find any bodies. Just when I was about to give up, I heard a voice.

"Martha.." It groaned. "Martha.. h..help.. me.. p-please.." It groaned from the other side of the car.

I ran around to the driver's door and used the metal that I was still holding to prise open the door. I searched through the piles of glass and metal, and finally found something large and solid. I brushed off the debris, finding a leg. I found the other in a matter of seconds, and climbed into the car to help. I unearthed the body, the arms, and I removed a large piece of metal to find the head of Harry.

"Harry!" I cried, hugging him. I had never been so happy to find someone in my life. "Oh, Harry! I thought you were dead! I came back and... and.. the truck was-"

"-Martha, I'm fine. I'm just glad that you're OK." He coughed a little, and winced a bit in pain as I hugged him, but he didn't seem to mind.

"I'm so glad that I found you! Where's Will?" I said, rummaging around in the heap of metal. I couldn't find anything. "Will? Will are you here?" Getting desperate, I started to look around the whole car desperately, looking for any kind of movement.

"Martha, Will-" Harry started to say.

"No! Will is here! I know he is! I left him with you! You kept him safe!" I shouted at him, not wanting to believe what Harry was about to say.

"Martha, Will's dead."

That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I felt my body loose all of its feeling, becoming numb. I slumped against the heap of metal, beside him. I let the tears fall; I couldn't keep them in anymore. I let out a small cry, I couldn't help it. Harry managed to prop himself, despite his injuries and pull me close to him, hugging me.

"How?" I sobbed, crying into his chest.

"When the zombies attacked us, he went outside, trying to fend them off. He was trying to protect the truck, and he believed that you would come back. He tried to protect me. He tried to save me for me to protect you. Will ran out of ammo, and they killed him."

I cried even harder, and he rubbed my shoulders comfortingly.

We stayed there for a while whilst I was crying. Harry didn't say anything about moving or the fact that he was hurting, but he just sat there with me, holding me tight.


	7. Helping Harry

As the sky started to darken, Harry and I climbed out of the crushed vehicle, getting cut everywhere on our already injured bodies by shards of glass and car parts. I helped Harry out of the truck, even though he kept insisting that he was fine, and he kept pushing my hands away.

"Harry, let me help you," I said, holding my hands out towards him.

He pushed them away. "No Martha, I'm-" He winched, clutching the side of his stomach in pain, his jaw clenched. I went to help him again, but as soon as I reached out my hands, he pushed them away again. "-I'm fine." He gave me an unconvincing smile.

Harry attempted to move out of the car, but shouted out in pain as soon as he moved his leg. Of course, I went to help him, but he just shoved my hands away.

"Martha, I'm f-fine.."

"No, you're not fine! I can see it in your face. Every time you move you hurt and clearly the pain is unbearable! It's getting dark, and we're the only two left here! I've already lost four of you. I'm not loosing another." I snapped. With that, I took his weight on my shoulder, and helped him up from the wreckage. Harry was twice my weight, and he was nearly a fully grown man, but I supported him nonetheless.

I took him into the forest that I had run through before, helping him over fallen trunks of trees and rocks.

"Martha, you don't have to-" Harry started.

"Yes I do! I'm getting you to safety no matter what! You're the only one I've got left! I'm sure you would do the same for me if I were in the same situation as you!" I shouted at him, carefully lifting his leg over a fallen tree.

Harry didn't have anything to say after that, deciding that it was probably best not to say anything. We stayed silent for the rest of the journey, having to stop a couple of times for Harry and I to catch our breath.

I hadn't told Harry where we were headed, that there was a train. I wanted it to be a surprise, and I'm sure it make Harry very happy to see that there was still hope, even though it didn't seem like it. I helped him over one last rock and the train was still there, our last hope.

"This is what you found? When you ran off? This is amazing!" Harry said, a smile beaming across his face. I hadn't seen Harry smile for so long, it made me smile also, just to see that he hadn't lost hope either. I helped him onto one of the train's carriages, and he slumped against the wall, clutching and grasping his side in agony.

I sat in front of him. "Let me take a look at it."

Harry looked at me, shaking his head. "There's nothing you can do about it." He said, breathing sharply. "Trust me, you can't."

"Of course I can, Harry! I can help ease the pain, make it better." I said, holding his hand.

"Martha you don't understand!" Harry shouted at me, groaning out in pain. "You need to understand that this wound can't be healed! There's nothing you can do!"

I looked at him, writhing in pain. "At least let me take a look at it for you! I've got a whole First-Aid kit here in my backpack! I've been trained in First-Aid, I can help you!" Harry just kept on shaking his head. "Harry! Please let me look! I promise I can help you!"

He reluctantly took his hands away from the wound under his shirt. I slowly lifted his top, and tried not to gasp or make any reaction. A whole chunk of Harry's waist had gone. Blood seeped through it, bones showing through the flesh.

I took my backpack off, and rummaged through it to find the kit. I opened the lid of the box, and found some bandages, tweezers and antiseptic.

"Martha.. please.. you need to know that..-" Harry groaned, trying to stop my hands. He was growing weary, he had lost much blood.

"Harry, I'm just trying to help you." I said, holding his hand to try and reassure him. "I need to get the grit and glass out of the wound otherwise it will become infected." I grabbed the tweezers and started to remove the shards from the wound. Harry moaned and cried out in pain as I removed several pieces of glass and metal from his body. "Shh, Harry, it's fine.. I'm nearly done.." I whispered to him, trying to help.

After I had removed as much of the material in the wound that I could see, I found a damp cloth and dabbed it in some antiseptic before pressing it lightly on the wound. Harry shouted out in pain, which made me take the cloth off in shock.

"Stop!" Harry said, pushing my hand away. "I told you! This wound can't be healed! Nothing that you have in that kit of yours won't help! It will only make it worse! The wound will just keep on infecting my body!" He started to cry, tears pouring out of his eyes.

"Well if you'd just let me-" I started but Harry shouted back.

"MARTHA! YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND! WHY WON'T YOU LISTEN? THERE'S NOTHING YOU CAN DO! NOTHING!" He cried even harder now, clutching his side. "There's nothing you can do! I know you're just trying to help, but you need to understand that this wound cannot heal!"

I looked at him, tears falling from my own eyes from seeing him in such pain and distress. "Why?"

He looked at me, his breathing uneven. He cried even more, grabbing my hand tight. I moved closer to him, and put my other hand on his cheek and turned his face towards me. "Why?" I repeated myself, as he hadn't replied to my question. "Harry, why can't I help?"

Harry turned to look at me, his cheeks wet from his tears. His bottom lip wobbled, and he took a deep breath before answering my question.

"Because it's a zombie bite."


	8. Infection

The words rang through my head. I tried to breathe but there was a lump in my throat, making me gasp, my breaths ragged. I started shaking uncontrollably, shaking my head. I reached for the bandages, not wanting to leave him like this.

"You're g-going to be f-fine.." I said through sharp breaths, unrolling the bandages shakily. Harry looked at me, distress and pain across his face.

"Martha, stop, it's ok.." He said, trying to reach for my hands, trying to soothe me, but this only made my condition worse.

"No, Harry! I will h-help you! Please! I-"

He grabbed my hands tightly, and I looked at him, my body shaking.

"Martha," Harry said, caressing my face, and stroking off the tears on my cheeks with his thumb. "Shh, it's okay.. I'm fine.."

I tried to breathe in and out slowly. This couldn't be happening. Soon I'll be the only one left. All my friends have died to help me. I felt so guilty. It was my entire fault. New tears poured out of my eyes. Harry noticed this and pulled me closer to him, taking me in his arms and stroking my shoulder.

"It's all my f-fault.." I said, curling myself into a ball in Harry's arms. "J-Joe.. Scarlett.. Jessica.. W-Will.. they d-died to help me.. and I did nothing t-to help them!" I bawled and sobbed on his chest, rocking back and forwards. Harry held me tighter.

"None of this was your fault, Martha." He said, wiping away the tears on my face. "Look at me." I looked at him, my bottom lip quivering. "Nothing has been your fault. You need to stop blaming everything on yourself."

I didn't say anything, just more silent tears rolled down my cheeks. My body hurt from crying and carrying Harry's weight. I felt limp and lifeless in his arms. I shut my eyes, falling into a deep sleep as Harry cradled me and stroked my head soothingly.

...

I woke up to the sound of someone groaning. I sat up sharply and looked for Harry, and saw him in a corner of the wooden carriage, clutching his side. I ran over to him, and sat down in front of him, lifting up his t-shirt to see the bite.

"It's getting worse," Said Harry, looking at me with a worried expression. "The infection is starting to spread. I can feel it."

I looked more closely at the bite, and saw indeed that there was a green colour spreading from the wound. I sighed, not knowing what to do. I had never treated a zombie bite before.

"Sorry to wake you." Harry said.

"It doesn't matter. I'm here to help you. I'm here whenever you need me. Especially for this." I said, gesturing to the infection on his body. I carefully lowered back the t-shirt, and sat back in front of him. "How long was I asleep for?"

"A couple of days," Harry said, smiling. "You needed the rest." Before I could say anything, he interrupted me. "-I was fine. The bite has only just started to hurt. There's nothing to worry about." He said. I didn't believe him.

My stomach rumbled loudly. I had just remembered how long ago it was since I had eaten. "Here," Harry said, throwing me a stale piece of bread and an apple. "Sorry it's not much, and the bread is stale, but this is all we have from the store. We need to find someplace else soon."

"But you can hardly walk!" I said, spraying bread everywhere. "There's no way you can walk with that! I'll have to go out and look for us."

"No, Martha!" Harry protested. "You can't go out; there are 'walkers' out there! And I don't know what I'd do if you never came back! Please, don't go by yourself!"

I looked at him. He had a pained expression, tears in his eyes. I nodded, agreeing not to go. He slumped back against the wall, breathing out in relief.

"Thank you," He said, looking at me gratefully. "I can't lose another. I can't lose you."

We spent the rest of the day in silent, keeping ourselves to ourselves. There was nothing to talk about, nothing to say of importance. Harry did try to make conversation a couple of times, but I didn't feel like talking. He sensed that, and decided not to talk to me.

...

It was late into the evening. I looked at Harry, and he was sat against the wall, his head back, snoring. I got up, put on my bag as silently as I could, and crept over to the closed carriage doors. I very slowly opened them, watching Harry as I did. I would be back before dawn. I wouldn't leave Harry by himself. I just needed to find food.

I slid out of the carriage and closed the doors back, turning to the forest in front of me. I took a deep breath before walking away from the truck. There had to be a town or something nearby. The train wouldn't just be here for no reason. I felt the harsh cold wind and shivered as I zipped up my jacket to my neck, sticking my hands in my pockets.


	9. George

The coldness and the harshness of the night wind started to prick my cheeks; stabbing them with ice and making them sting. _There had to be a town around here somewhere, or a house or a building, surely?_

I looked at the ground and realised that it was snowing, for white specks started to settle on the ground. I pushed on through the icy weather, my feet crunching on the ground. I pulled up the collar on my jacket closer to my neck as the snow started to get heavier and heavier, wrapping my arms around my waist to try and keep myself as warm as possible. I buried my head down in my coat, and as I was looking at the ground, something caught my eye.

The snow that was falling on one patch of grass was turning red as it touched the ground. There seemed to be blood on the floor. _So someone has been here_. I crouched down on the ground and put my index finger into the blood. It was wet, which meant that it was new blood, from only a couple of hours ago. There must be someone around here, or some place that I can find food. Looking at the patch of blood, I realised that there was a trail of it leading north. I felt hopeful as I followed the blood trail, my pace quickening.

I walked for what seemed like forever, and I quickly got tired. I had only eaten an apple and a piece of bread recently, and it was hardly enough to keep up my strength and stamina. I was out of breath, and the world blurred around me. I started to struggle to walk, and I staggered to and fro, before falling in the snow, unconscious.

I heard the rattle of tin, the faint pattering of feet, and the mumbles of someone. The sounds were compressed and faint, and my head rang and swam with uneasiness, making my head feel like it weighed a ton. I opened my eyes, my vision blurred and out of focus. My eyes became focused and adjusted to the faint light of the room. I pushed myself up, my arms and chest aching, and I realised that I was on a sofa, with blankets and cushions around me to keep me warm.

My hearing became clearer, and I looked around to see a man making a mug of something in a kitchen.

"H-hello?" I stuttered, dazed.

The man turned around in astonishment and smiled, walking over to me. "You're awake! I'm glad to see you're OK. When I found you lying in the snow outside, I thought I'd better take you in. I'm glad to see you haven't turned into one of them, and you're still alive." He had a Scottish accent, and a lot of facial hair. He had blue eyes, and wore a lot of warm clothing, that wasn't of the best condition. He looked like I could trust him, and decided to be friendly with him.

"Thank you," I said, smiling. "For taking me in. I would have been dead if it wasn't for you."

He shook his head. "It was nothing. There's only a few of us left out here. We all have to help each other. Here." He handed me a steaming cup of hot chocolate, which I took graciously.

"Thank you so much!" I said, taking a large gulp of it, slightly burning my tongue. "Are there others here?"

"There's three of us here, John, Stan, and me." He smiled and came back to sit with me. "The name's George."

"I'm Martha." I said, smiling and taking another sip of the delicious hot beverage.

"Are there any others with you?" George asked, scratching his beard.

I nearly dropped my mug in shock. "Harry! I have to get back to Harry! He'll be worried sick! I tried to get up from the sofa, but my body was too weak. "George! I need to go and get Harry!"

George crouched down in front of me and put his hand on my shoulder. "Harry? Is he a friend of yours?"

I was shaking in panic. "Yes! He's on the train! I left him in the night to find some food and shelter! He needs me! I have to go back to him! Please!"

"C'mon, we'll go and get him together." George helped me slip on my boots, put on his own, and carried my weight on his shoulder as he helped me stand up. We walked outside and I showed him the way back to the train.

"You have to help him! He's got a wound on his leg and he needs to be seen to and he's really ill and he needs help-!" I cried.

"Don't worry, Martha. I've got a degree in First Aid, and I can help your friend. Calm down, you're only making yourself worse and more exhausted."

I did as he said, and we eventually reached the train. _I heard no noise coming from inside. Perhaps he's still asleep. Perhaps he's-_

"Harry! Harry, are you in here!" I escaped George's grip, and staggered towards the carriage we were in. "Harry!" I cried, prising open the wooden door. George came and helped me and I clambered into the carriage.

I looked around and to my relief, Harry was sat in the corner where he was, looking like he was in extreme pain.

"Harry! I'm so sorry I left you! But I found a doctor, his name is George. He'll look after you, he can help you get better." I stroked his hair, looking at him writhing in pain.

"M-Martha.. please no.. I told you, you can't help me.." He spluttered, clutching his neck. "Why did you l-leave me? I-I said for you n-n-no-not to go..."

George broke in. "Harry, I need to see your leg. Can I roll up your trousers to take a look? I won't hurt you, I just need to see. My name is George. I'm a doctor."

Harry nodded and George examined his leg. Harry looked at me. "I t-told you not to go."

I nodded, and held his hand. "I know, but I had to go. If I didn't, we would have died. I found shelter, food, and other people who can help us."

"No.. there is no help for me... only you.."

"No, Harry! Why won't you listen? George can help you! He's a doctor!"

"Martha, no you-"

"-No, Harry – you need to listen-"

"-There's nothing you can do-"

"-George can help-"

"-It's a zombie bite! There's nothing that can be done-"

"-You need to listen to me! You're going to be okay-"

"-No I'm not! Can't you see? I'm dying! I-"

"-You're not dying! You'll be okay! Your leg will be fine-"

"-Martha, I-"

"-Stop it! Just stop it! You're going to be okay-"

"- Martha, I need you to listen to me now."

I gave up arguing with him and looked at him.

"I know how hard this must be for you, but there's nothing you can do. Once the venom and poison get into the body, that's it. It's already over for me. There's nothing that can be done to reverse what has happened to me. Even George knows that. Soon, I'll be one of them, and for you to see me like one of them after already seeing Joe like it would just be too much. So I need you to do something for me."

Tears started to form in my eyes. I know what he was about to ask me. There's only two ways. One is to end up like them. The other is to never end up like them. And I know what the second one would mean. That would just be too much for me to handle. I couldn't do it. It was Harry. It was my best friend.

"I need you to kill me."


	10. Taking Us In

I said nothing. I did nothing. I just looked at him; it felt as if he had slapped me in the face. _How could he ask me to do that? After all of this? After everything we've been through? He's one of my best friends, I could never do that_. George _could_ help him, he's a doctor. There's got to be a way to get the poison out of his body, there's got to be a way to get him better._ This isn't the way things are meant to be. He's not meant to die. Not now._

"No." I said finally, looking at my lap and fiddling with my fingers.

Harry sighed, frustrated, and looked at me. "Martha. I know it must be a lot for you to take in, and it's an incredibly large burden I'm placing on you. You're one of my best friends, and I trust you with all my heart. There is no one else I would ask this to. I knew you'd say no, but it's the only option for me. I don't want you to see me like one of them. It's not fair for you to see that, after seeing Joe. And I know you think that George can help me, and I'm sure he's doing the best he can, but there's just no way that I can get better. One way or another I'm going to die. And you'll have to accept that." He took hold of my hand and stroked it with his thumb reassuringly.

George turned away from Harry's leg and back to us. "Martha, I can't help Harry. A zombie bite is a zombie bite, and the venom and poison have already spread around most of his body, and I can't do anything about it now. I'm sorry. I tried my best."

I felt numb, like the last little ray of happiness had been taken away from me, and all I had now was just fear, loneliness and darkness. I felt like there was nothing happy left in the world anymore, like everything bright and happy had just slowly disintegrated. I felt like my world was falling apart.

My stamina and strength now replenished, I helped George carry and support Harry back to his lodge, to help him regain some of his strength. George brought him several cups of hot substances to keep him warm, and fed him good food to get him as close to health as he once was. I never left his side. I sat on the floor by the sofa that I was on holding his hand all the time to let him know that I was here, and to comfort him. He told me to go and get some rest and eat but I wouldn't leave him. He would have done the same for me.

John and Stan came to meet us. They were George's sons, John was 18, and Stan was 16. John was tall and well-built, with messy dark black hair and some signs of facial hair. He wore the same raggedy clothes as George, and he had hazel-brown eyes. Stan was slightly smaller in height than John, but was still a well-built. He had sandy-brown hair and green eyes, and wore the same clothes as his brother, but they were less ragged and old. We all had dinner together, and it was the first hot meal that I had consumed in a very long time, and it felt good to have some proper food inside of me rather than mushy fruit and stale bread. Harry looked a lot better too. It turns out that George had been stockpiling for a while, and managed to keep and store a lot of food in the basement, so we won't run out of food anytime soon.

It soon became night, and everyone was told where they would be sleeping. Harry was to stay on the sofa, and I persisted that I stayed with him, but I wasn't allowed in case he became in pain and needed seeing to, so George was to sleep downstairs on the other sofa to keep Harry safe. John was in George's bed, and I was to share a room with Stan.

We walked into Stan's room and he showed me the bed where I would be sleeping, on the opposite side of the room. He handed me a pillow and a duvet, which I placed on the bed, and I went into the bathroom to clean my teeth, brush my hair, and change into a set of pyjamas that Stan provided me with which were incredibly big for me.

Once I was all dressed and clean, I hopped into bed and Stan turned the light out, also getting into his own bed. We didn't speak for a while, but after a few minutes, Stan struck up conversation.

"How did you find us?" He said. "I didn't think anyone would, seeing as we are practically in the middle of nowhere."

"Your dad found me unconscious in the snow, and took me in." I replied.

I heard his head shift towards my direction. "You were unconscious? What happened?"

"I hadn't properly eaten for days, and my energy and strength was low. It was incredibly nice of your Dad to let Harry and I stay, and to provide us with food, shelter and warmth. We are both extremely grateful for your help. Thanks for the pyjamas by the way. They're a bit big." I joked, and I got a laugh back from him.

"It's the least I can do. I'm glad we found you; there aren't many people around that haven't turned. It's good to find people that you can talk to." He said.

I smiled, grateful for his company and gratefulness. "How long have you been here?"

"Well, this is our home. Since my mother died, we had to move somewhere smaller and further away. We've been here for about 6 months." Stan said.

"Your mother died? What happened?" I said, sitting up in my bed. "Oh. Sorry, I shouldn't pry. It's your business, not mine. I'm sorry."

Stan sat up also. "No, it's fine. I don't mind talking about it. In fact, it's easier to talk about it than rather keep it inside and to yourself. It's nice that people want to talk to you and listen." He came and sat on the edge of my bed. "My mother was out working that day when this whole thing started. The three of us had stayed in the house to help Dad, and we only realised what was going on when we heard screams from outside. My dad went to go and see what was going on, and we went out with him, and that's when we saw her."

"You saw your mother? As one of them?" I asked, and he nodded. "I'm so sorry. It must have been incredibly horrible for you to see. I never should have said anything. I'm-"

"-Don't be sorry. It's fine. As time had gone on, it's been easier to deal with it, because I've got my brother and my dad to help me through it. It was very difficult to not run to her and tell her that everything was ok, when it wasn't." Stan interrupted. He looked at me, shrugging.

"I know exactly how you feel." I said, stroking his shoulder. "I saw my friend Joe as one of them. It was one of the most horrible things I have ever seen, and it took me a while to get over it. I think this whole thing has affected us in many different yet similar ways, and we are all finding it increasingly difficult to deal with the stuff that's going on."

"I'm sorry to hear that," He said, taking my hand in his.

"If you ever need to talk about anything," I said, looking at him. "I'm right here for you."

Stan took my hand in his. We sat there for a while in silence, not saying anything. After a couple of minutes, Stan went back to his own bed, and I climbed back under the covers, looking at the ceiling, like nothing had happened.

"Thank you." He whispered.


	11. A Bad Dream

"_Joe! Everything's going to be okay! You're going to be fine! Listen to me, Joe! Joe! Joe, can you hear me? Joe? JOE!" I tried to help him, but he struggled from my grip, crying and screaming at me. "Joe! What's happening to you? Let me help you! Can you hear me? Look at me! Look at me, Joe!"_

_The picture changed. _

_My parents flashed before my eyes, their faces gormless and with no expression. "I'm sorry." I held a knife above my head and murdered them. They fell to the ground at my feet, blood staining the carpet. Screams came from every direction my eardrums feeling like they were about to explode._

_My breathing started to get faster. The scene changed to me and Harry._

"_No.. there is no help for me... only you.."_

"_No, Harry! Why won't you listen? George can help you! He's a doctor!"_

"_Martha, no you-"_

"_-No, Harry – you need to listen-"_

"_-There's nothing you can do-"_

"_-George can help-"_

"_-It's a zombie bite! There's nothing that can be done-"_

"_-You need to listen to me! You're going to be okay-"_

"_-No I'm not! Can't you see? I'm dying! I-"_

"_-You're not dying! You'll be okay! Your leg will be fine-"_

"_-Martha, I-"_

"_-Stop it! Just stop it! You're going to be okay-"_

"_- Martha, I need you to listen to me now."_

_I gave up arguing with him and looked at him._

"_I know how hard this must be for you, but there's nothing you can do. Once the venom and poison get into the body, that's it. It's already over for me. There's nothing that can be done to reverse what has happened to me. Even George knows that. Soon, I'll be one of them, and for you to see me like one of them after already seeing Joe like it would just be too much. So I need you to do something for me. I need you to kill me."_

_The scene turned to the truck wreckage and finding Harry._

"_I'm so glad that I found you! Where's Will?" I said, rummaging around in the heap of metal. I couldn't find anything. "Will? Will are you here?" Getting desperate, I started to look around the whole car desperately, looking for any kind of movement._

"_Martha, Will-" Harry started to say._

"_No! Will is here! I know he is! I left him with you! You kept him safe!" I shouted at him, not wanting to believe what Harry was about to say._

"_Martha, Will's dead."_

_That was the last thing I wanted to hear. I felt my body loose all of its feeling, becoming numb. I slumped against the heap of metal, beside him. I let the tears fall; I couldn't keep them in anymore. I let out a small cry, I couldn't help it._

_My breathing got faster, my body jerking and shaking. The last scene came back to Joe._

"_JOE!" I shouted at him, banging on the door, trying to open it. I saw his pained face as he looked at me. The zombie was clawing at him, tearing him apart._

"_GO!" Joe shouted. "JUST RUN!"_

"_NO! I'M NOT LEAVING WITHOUT YOU! JOE!" I cried, yanking on the doorknob to open the door._

_I was about to run outside to help him as the monster sunk his teeth into Joe's neck. I screamed and collapsed in a heap to the floor, reaching out for him. My arms were limp as I threw them at the door helplessly. I felt dizzy and lightheaded; the world was swimming around me. I caught a glimpse of a splatter of blood over the glass on the door before I felt someone grab hold of me and lift me up. I felt like crying and screaming and fighting at the same time. I was taken away from the screaming into another room._

_I started to cry and scream, my vision blurred and my hearing muffled. I fell to the floor again, I felt so weak. I felt arms around me and someone was saying something to me. I tried to fight their grip, and managed to break free from them, still trying to clamber around for Joe. I could still save him, he couldn't have gone. He's here somewhere. He had to have killed that monster._

_I felt a tight grip on me again. They were murmuring something to me. I kept shouting and crying, scratching and clawing this person. I didn't care how they felt, I needed Joe._

"_Joe!" I cried, reaching out. "JOE!" I sobbed, screaming and punching. "Let go of me! LET GO OF ME!"_

"LET GO! JOE! JOE! LET GO OF ME! JOE! JOE!" I screamed, writhing and shouting. A firm grasp gripped my arms, bringing me back to the world.

"Martha! Martha, can you hear me? Martha?" A worried voice said, shaking my arms.

I opened my eyes suddenly and sat up straight, beads of sweat dotted on my forehead. I was breathing rapidly, my body jerking and shaking. I saw Stan in front of me, looking at me worriedly with a pained expression.

"Are you OK? You were screaming and shouting in your sleep." He said, wiping my tears.

I looked around the room, and then back to him. "I-I-" I tried to say, still shaking.

"Shh.. It's OK. You're safe. It was just a bad dream." He took me in his arms and rocked me back and forth like a little child. It was soothing and comforting.

"I-I saw Joe," I whimpered, tears falling down my cheeks. "And Harry.. and my parents.. they were all there.."

"Hey, hey, shh.. everything is fine." He said, stroking my cheek. "Calm down.. look, I'll make us both a cup of hot chocolate, okay? I think we'll both feel better afterwards."

"What time is it?" I said, as he walked out of the room.

He looked back. "About half-past three. Don't worry," He said, as he saw me looking worriedly at him. "It's fine. I have nightmares all of the time. I don't mind getting us some drinks. I won't wake up Harry, he needs his sleep. It's OK." He smiled and walked silently down the stairs.

I lied back down on the bed, taking a shaky breath in and out, wiping away my tears. I had never had a nightmare like that before. Or recently for that matter. I guess it was just from everything that was going on, and everything was getting a bit too much to handle. We were safe now. Well, as safe as we could be. George is a doctor, and Harry is in good hands for as long as he could survive. And Stan.. I'm not sure how I feel about him. Is there more there than friendship? He's been so nice to me ever since we've arrived.

I didn't have time to dwell on this, for Stan came back in with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. He handed one to me, and sat with me on the bed once again, leaning against the wall.

"Are you feeling a bit better now?" He asked me, after I had taken a few sips of the hot drink he had given me.

I nodded, and it was true what he said, I did feel a lot better after drinking it. "Thank you," I said, smiling at him. "For everything. Not just for the hot chocolate."

He smiled back at me, taking my hand in his. "Hey, that's alright. I'm just trying to help others like us out." He squeezed my hand, and we were silent for a few moments, drinking the rest of our hot chocolate.

I drained the last drips of the delicious beverage and placed it on the bedside table. Stan did the same, and then looked at me, and started laughing.

"What?" I said, looking at him. "What's so funny?"

He smiled at me. "You've got cream on your face."

"Where?" I said, trying to wipe it off. "Is it gone?" I said, showing him.

He laughed again. "No, here, let me help you." He shuffled over to me and used his thumb to get the cream off. "There. It's gone."

We stared at each other for a moment, looking into eachother's eyes. Then, unexpectedly, Stan leaned in and kissed me.


End file.
